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A Love Letter to Vidin

Writer: Maren Daynes
Maren Daynes
Sep 17
3 min read

One of the most memorable performances of my life took place in Vidin, Bulgaria last year with the International Musicians Academy.


I had just finished the first year of my master's degree and had been studying Beethoven's Fourth Piano Concerto. I was thrilled to make my first international concerto debut, especially with such a phenomenal orchestra.


This was only the second concerto I had ever performed, and fittingly, my second Beethoven concerto as well.


Looking back, this opportunity came at exactly the right moment in my life.


At the time, I was experiencing severe burnout. I had gone straight from my bachelor's degree into my master's program, and I was beginning to wonder if I had made the right choice.


I felt like I never had time to rest. No matter how hard I worked, I constantly felt that I wasn't good enough. The previous year had been filled with performances, classes, rehearsals, and countless accompanying responsibilities.


Music had stopped feeling like something I loved and had become something I depended on to survive. It put food on the table, but somewhere along the way, it had stopped being fun.


One afternoon, I found myself sitting outside the concert hall with a Coca-Cola in hand. A strange and very specific feeling came over me that I had never experienced before.


I felt satisfied. I felt happy. I felt enough.


For years, I had planned to pursue a doctoral degree. I was already preparing my audition repertoire and thinking about the next step. But at that moment, I realized I didn't want to continue down that path. I didn’t feel like I needed to.


I wrote down my thoughts and revisited them several days later. Nothing had changed.


I wanted to start a family. I wanted to finish my master's degree and then step away from school.


I didn't feel like I needed another degree or another accomplishment to prove anything. For the first time, I finally felt finished—not in a sad way, but in the way a book feels complete when you reach the last page and close it.


When performance day arrived, I felt unusually calm. I knew it was going to go well, and it did. It was easily one of the best performances I’ve ever given.


As I played, I was overcome with an unexpected sense of nostalgia, as though I was already remembering the experience while I was living it. It felt like one of those memories that would stay with me for the rest of my life.


By the end of the performance, I was in tears. I knew I would miss it.


Today, when I think back on that season of my life, I remember how overwhelmed I felt—how much stress, sadness, and self-doubt I carried with me.


And then I remember Bulgaria.


For the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged. I felt content with who I was and where I was headed.


It was the best trip of my life. Even now, I think about it almost every day.


That performance reminded me why I became a musician in the first place. I believe we are given certain opportunities exactly when we need them. Bulgaria was one of those opportunities for me.


It reminded me that music was never the problem. I had just forgotten why I loved it.



Sinfonietta Vidin

Ovidiu Marinescu, Conductor

International Musicians Academy, Bulgaria

 
 
 

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©2026 Maren Daynes

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